The Jam Salesman
by wehaveaproblem
Summary: Katniss and Peeta are getting used to their lives in Victor's Village, and unfortunately, Peeta's not adjusting to the idea that Katniss doesn't love him very well. Katniss has just started her day out with tear-soaked bread from Peeta and doesn't think her day can get any worse. Actually...it can.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games...unfortunately._**

_A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry I haven't updated anything in forever. But I have a new hilarious story for you to read now ;) My twin sister and I decided we'd write this story together, and we just pass it back and forth, continuing the story. It started out so nice and normal...and then it took a turn down a strange alley. Basically, we ended up making it our goal to make it as strange as possible._

_My sister wrote in regular text, and I wrote in italics. Enjoy!_

* * *

This house is too big. And too… Capitol.

It's making this whole "I've won the Hunger Games and now I'm rich and uppity and too important" thing even worse than it already was.

Although, a couple of months ago, I probably would have been rolling around on the floor for the chance to be this rich and secure. I would have literally killed someone in order to not have to bust my butt every day doing illegal things just to scrape by…

But that was a couple of months ago.

Now I've realized that the money comes with great sacrifice. Too much sacrifice, actually. Too many children died in order for me to live here.

I shudder as I walk down the stairs. At least I'll have Prim and mother here with me soon. The exact second the last of the Capitol presses leaks out of the district, they will be living here in the Victor's Village with me.

I shove my way into the kitchen, expecting to eat my breakfast alone, but I find that someone else has decided they're allowed in my house— Peeta.

He turns around when he hears the door open and flinches away from me before I can even do anything. He gently sets down the basket of bread that he was holding and looks at the floor.

"Thanks," I say.

He mumbles something, but his eyes immediately fill with tears, and he flees the house. It takes him a couple tries to get the sliding glass door open, which would be comical to watch if he weren't sobbing so pitifully, but eventually Peeta manages to get out of my house.

I let out a deep sigh. He hasn't taken my announcement that our relationship was a total ploy to stay alive well at all. I mean, sure, I feel bad for the poor guy, but I'm still confused as to how he didn't know I was acting.

I wander over to the basket of bread that Peeta left and lift the cloth napkin off the top. Neatly arranged inside, there are two loaves of bread, a stack of cookies, a plate of pastries... and some cheese buns.

How on earth did he know I like those?

For a second, I feel completely violated, considering this guy that I've only know for a month knows what my favorite type of bread is, but that feeling goes away pretty fast. I'm sure I probably mentioned it during training or something…

But that, in turn, makes me angry. Peeta is making it really hard for me to remain indifferent to him.

Angrily, I pluck a pastry out of the basket and take a bit. Curse him for making such delightful treats. If they weren't delicious, I would be totally against them. However, they are some of the most delicious things I have ever had the pleasure of eating, so there's one win in Peeta's category.

I am about to go hide in my room where no one can find me, but there's a knock on the door.

I nearly start crying or screaming in frustration. There are only a few different groups of people who show up to my house: Haymitch in a drunken haze, Peeta with more delectable bribes, or Capitol interviewers.

None of those options seems too great, but I know I have to answer the door or Haymitch will smash a window/ the Capitol people will just let themselves in. Since I like to be in control of things, I always open the door of my own accord. They don't get the satisfaction of coming in uninvited.

I march down the hallway, taking angry bites out of my pastry, and wrench the door open. "What do you want?" I ask without thinking or even looking up to see who it is.

When I do look up, I'm shocked. It's not Peeta with more food. It's not drunk Haymitch. And it's not Capitol retards.

It's Gale.

_I drop my pastry onto the ground and stare at him in genuine shock for god knows how long. I'm not sure what expression I have on my face, but it must be priceless. It's just…I haven't seen him in so long. And I felt such an odd, lurching rush of emotion the second I saw his face that it's taken me a few seconds to try to process through it._

_Gale looks at me strangely. "Do you want me to leave?"_

"_No," I say breathlessly. "No…of course not." And then suddenly, I've taken a step towards him, tripped over the threshold, and stumbled straight into his arms. Gale freezes, but I irrationally throw my arms around his neck. It takes him a few seconds before he allows his arms to settle around my waist._

"_I missed you." The words tumble out of my mouth like water rushing over rocks in a stream. "I missed you, Gale."_

"_I missed you too, Catnip," he says after a moment of hesitation._

_I let go of Gale and take a couple steps backwards into my house. "Do you want to come in?" I trip on the dropped the pastry, and it just makes it more painfully uncomfortable._

_He steps into my house. The door shuts behind him with a soft click, and the silence settles around us like dust. He stands a few feet away from me, avoiding my eyes, and I can't stop looking at him._

"_How are you?" I ask._

"_Fine," he says. "How have you been?"_

"_Awful."_

_That makes him look at me for the first time since I threw the door open. And that makes me feel the need to explain. "It's terrible here. Prim and mom won't come here with me because these Capitol people won't stop coming here and interviewing me. The only people I have to talk to are Haymitch and Peeta, and Haymitch is always drunk, and the only thing Peeta does is bring baked goods soggy with his tears."_

_I realize that I'm starting to sound more hysterical as I keep talking, but that by no means makes me stop._

"_And now Peeta won't stop crying every time he sees me because he didn't realize I was acting the entire time."_

_Gale freezes, and his eyes lock onto mine. There's some foreign emotion there- one I can't recognize. For some reason, that encourages me to say, "I don't love Peeta."_

"_You were acting," Gale says. I can't tell if he said it as a question or a statement._

_I still feel the need to answer. "Yes. I was acting. I don't love Peeta." The sudden surge of emotion I feel directed towards Gale is what gives me the courage to add, "I never loved Peeta. It's always been you."_

_It isn't until then that I realize how close we're standing. How close his face is to mine._

"_I think…I think I love you, Gale," I whisper._

_And then I'm closing my eyes and closing the gap between us and-_

_There's a loud bang as Peeta throws the sliding glass door open again. "Katniss, I'm sorry…it's just-"_

_He freezes and stops short when he sees what he's walked into. The flash of emotion across his face is almost comical. Tears immediately begin pooling in the corners of his eyes. In the moment when I should have been apologizing or explaining, he lets out a heart-wrenching whimper and whirls around, smacking face-first into the sliding glass door. Again, he struggles with the door a couple times, tears streaming down his face. Then, he abandons the sliding door entirely, fleeing across the room, sobbing pathetically, and throws himself out the front door that I let Gale in._

_And Peeta fills the residual silence with one last plaintive wail before tripping off my porch with a thump._

"Dang it, Peeta!" I bark loudly, but I sort of trail off at the end since I'm more embarrassed than angry at this point.

For a second, no one makes to move at all. Gale stays leaning on his palms against the wall, towering above me and effectively trapping me between his arms, with his eyes closed in a grimace. I don't feel too inclined to move away from Gale because, for some reason, his closeness is really welcome. And outside the door, Peeta's still lying motionless face down on the ground. I can hear him sobbing all the way in here.

I'm standing there, and I honestly consider just shutting the front door completely and going back to what Gale and I were about to do, but then it dawns on me just how _awkward _that would be. So, cringing slightly, I give in to my pity of Peeta and duck under Gale's arm.

I mutter, "Sorry," and jog to the door.

I step out on the porch and look down at Peeta, and he seriously doesn't appear to be moving. He's not even crying anymore. For a fraction of a second, I honestly believe that he's hurt himself.

"Peeta—?" I ask.

But as soon as it comes out of my mouth, he struggles to his feet, making dying animal noises, and starts running towards his house with his arms flailing above his head.

"Peeta, seriously!" I shout after him. I'm not even sure why I do it. Maybe I really want to make sure he's okay. Maybe I want to tell him off for walking in on me and Gale. Or maybe I just want to scream at him for being so awkward and lovey-dovey and wussy.

Probably a combination of the last two.

When I see that Peeta has successfully made his way into his own house without falling again, and I march back into my own house, slamming the door hard behind me.

I pretty much run smack into Gale, who's already standing at this end of the hall.

"I'll see you later, Catnip," he says slowly, ducking around me.

"Wait, Gale!" I say. He's basically halfway out the door already. "Where are you going?"

He looks back over his shoulder and shakes his head a little, unable to come up with an answer to that question. "I have to go," he says in a hard voice.

"But—" I stutter. I've never been good with words, and my nerves over this whole "I've just shared my feelings with my best guy friend" situation and anger at Peeta for breaking up a perfectly good moment just make it worse.

"Sorry, Catnip," he says, a little quieter. "I'll see you later, okay?"

I can't think of anything to respond with. "Okay," I say. My voice is quiet and deflated.

Gale hesitates a second but then leaves. The door shuts quietly behind him.

My heart sinks down into my stomach. I can't help but wonder if Gale doesn't feel the same way. I mean, sure, there was something in his eyes when I told him I loved him, but I shut my eyes as soon as I decided to kiss him. For all I know, I could've just ruined our entire relationship in less than five minutes.

Cursing myself, I angrily snatch up my squished pastry from the floor and stomp back to the kitchen. I toss it in the trash can, feeling way too sad to do anything. Have I just lost both Peeta and Gale in one go?

I stalk over to the phone, fully prepared to call Peeta and scream his ear off, but then there's another knock on the door.

Come _on._

_I spin back around and throw the door open._

_There's a man on my porch. He has a dress on. He also has these long fake eyelashes that are orange and sparkly, and I feel this strange desire to reach out and rip them off._

_He holds up a jar of jam. "Would you like to endorse our jam?"_

_I slam the door in his face and hope he gets the message._

_I storm back into my kitchen, throw my squished pastry into the trash can, and give my table a good, solid kick on the leg out of frustration. There, sitting on the table, are the other delectable snacks from Peeta, and honestly, the sight of them makes me want to cry. I realize that I shouldn't waste my tears on those bread products when Peeta's already cried over them enough. But they still feel like a punch on the stomach._

_The salesman with the dress pops up in my kitchen window and holds the jam up again. "Are you sure?" he asks joyfully. For a second, all I can think is how on earth did this guy climb my back fence with those heels on? But the confusion immediately switches to anger. I grab Peeta's bucket of delicious food and throw it with all my might at the window. _

"_Get away from my house!" I scream._

_The salesman falls backwards and throws the jelly into the air. I almost burst into tears out of frustration and anger._

_I sink down onto the ground next to my scattered pastries and cover my face with my hands. Maybe it's good that there's no one here living with me. Then my family can't see me like this. I've come unhinged. It was bound to happen eventually, right? _

_I can just cut off all human contact. Maybe getting rid of Gale and Peeta was just a step in the right direction. Now I won't have to deal with my feelings for Gale or the frustration and emotional exhaustion of having Peeta around. And if I didn't have to deal with Haymitch anymore, I wouldn't mind._

_There's another knock on my door._

_In that moment, I could have sworn that the only emotion that I was physically capable of was anger._

_I stormed down the hall and threw the door open again, and I was not at all surprised to see that it was the jam salesman once again. He smiles cheerfully and said, "Are you sure you don't want to endorse our jam? You haven't even tasted it yet."_

_I think he repeats this a full three times with me stewing in anger before I punch him right in the Botox-y mouth._

_He falls backwards off my porch just like Peeta did. His little basket of jams tumbles to the ground, sending jars of jam scattering all across my lawn._

_I pick up the nearest jar- apricot preserves- and throw it at him. It hits him hard in the chest, and he scrambles away from me._

_And then I tackle him._

_And I start beating him up._

_I'm not sure why I've chose to take out my anger on this Capitol jelly salesman, but he was the nearest target. I continue to just punch every inch of his colorful self, and I do it without the slightest feeling of regret. My only objective is to beat this guy within an inch of his life using only the jelly that he's brought with him._

_And suddenly, there are hands grabbing me and pulling me off of him. I try to struggle against them, but whoever it is is obviously much stronger than I am._

_They shove me away from the guy and onto the ground. The jam salesman lets out a little string of whimpers and scrambles frantically about my yard, gathering his jams and jellies. He throws them haphazardly into his basket. He runs off without another glance, leaving one of his red high heels behind._

_I lie down on the grass and stare up at the blue sky._

"_What were you thinking?" _Gale's standing above me, complete confusion on his face. "I could hear you beating him from halfway to the square."

"He wouldn't leave me alone," I say in a hard voice. "I told him to leave two times, and he wouldn't leave."

Gale offers his hand and pulls me to my feet. He doesn't look particularly mad at me, which, honestly, puts me over the moon for some reason. Also, when he finally drags me to a standing position, I'm really close to him, and that's just _really_ distracting.

"Come on," Gale says in a low voice. "Let's get you back inside."

Gale gives me a little shove towards the door, and, thankfully, he follows me inside. Once I get past the threshold, I sort of remember what happened between us a couple minutes ago right here, and I am filled with a strange nervousness. There's always a chance that Gale doesn't feel the same way about me as I do about him, and I just ruined whatever friendship we still had left with one sentence.

Then again, there's always a chance that he does love me too…

Gale sits me down on the couch in my sitting room and pulls a chair up in front of me. I fold my hands in my lap, and Gale looks down at them.

"You bruised your fists," he comments. "That's how hard you were hitting him. I could literally hear the punches from down the street."

I keep my gaze trained on my lap. "Yeah, well… the guy deserved it," I mutter.

"He's from the _Capitol,_ Katniss," Gale hisses. "I'm all for throwing it back in the Capitol's face, but you're a Victor. You could get annihilated for this—"

"Whatever," I interject. "I don't care."

"Katniss, I'm serious. I don't want you to get in trouble—"

_Well, Gale, you'll be surprised that I'm already in deep trouble,_ I think to myself._ Ever since I pulled those berries._

Of course, I don't actually say any of that out loud. What really comes out of my mouth is, "Whatever."

"Katniss, what is _wrong _with you?" Gale asks sharply.

I look up at him sharply. "I already told you!" I practically shout. I'm starting to sound hysterical. "I'm all alone here because Mother and Prim can't move in until all the Capitol people are gone, and Haymitch is always drunk, and Peeta's depressed because I don't love him, and I've just ruined my relationship with you!" There's complete silence as I take a breath. "Sorry that all that made me upset," I say sharply.

I suddenly feel like I'm going to start sobbing, and I can't barely hold the tears in. I look back down at my lap, debating how I can get around Gale without him being able to catch me.

"You seriously think that you ruined your relationship with me?" Gale asks in a measured voice.

I can't respond on account of the tears.

"Catnip, look at me," he says. His hand reaches out, and a finger slips under my chin to lift my eyes to meet his. There's some foreign emotion in his eyes that I can't place, and it basically freezes the breath in my throat. "Do you seriously think that you ruined your relationship with me?"

"Maybe," I whisper without thinking.

"Can't you see that I love you, Katniss?" he asks. "I've loved you the whole damn time— before you left for the Games, even."

Whatever I was going to respond with withers and dies on my tongue. Before I can say anything at all, though, Gale leans forward and pulls me towards him. In less than a second, our lips touch, and I melt.

_I'm so completely absorbed by Gale that I don't even hear the quiet knock at the front door or the sound of someone coming into my house. I'm so utterly distracted by the overwhelming idea that Gale really does return my feelings that I don't hear Peeta's voice from inside my house._

"_Katniss? Katniss, are you in here? Someone left a shoe in your front yard…and some jams? I thought I heard arguing outside, and I was wondering-"_

_Peeta has to stop short because he's walked into the sitting room. This time, he didn't just see us standing really close._

_He tries to whirl around and make a quick escape, but he slips on my nice quality Capitol rug. His feet fly into the air along with several jars of jam and the cross-dresser-jam-salesman's red heel. The shoe lodges into the drywall, and the jams rain down like hail, shattering and exploding like little bombs. But the sound of the jars shattering in no way compares to the sound Peeta's head makes as it slams into the doorframe. There's a good, solid sound as flesh collides with highly-polished wood._

_Peeta hits the ground hard and goes still._

"_Peeta, gosh dang it!" I scream, jumping up from the couch. "Will you ever learn to just knock on the door and wait until I come get it?"_

_Peeta doesn't respond, and I panic. For a second, I can't tell if he's breathing. He's definitely not moving. _

_I scramble over to his body, and I slip on a shattered jelly. I crawl over to him, pulling little pieces of sticky, jelly-covered glass out of my hand. And the only thing I can think is:_

_Did we just kill Peeta?_

_The doorbell decides to ring at that exact moment._

_Since I'm currently kneeling in a war zone of shattered glass, jelly mountains, and blood- both mine and Peeta's- Gale goes to get the door instead. From down the hall, I see as Gale pulls the door open, revealing the jam salesman, looking bruised and disheveled._

_This time, however, he's not alone._

_There's a rather large, buff man next to him. He's wearing a nice suit vest and some tight spandex shorts. And that's it. He has short cropped blue hair. He's holding hands with the cross-dressing jam salesman, and for some reason, that makes it all worse._

"_There she is!" the jam salesman calls, pointing down the hallway at me. He says it joyfully, oddly enough. _

_He holds up another basket of jams. "I brought you more jams!" he says. "I'll just leave them on your porch this time. You can eat them at your leisure." He winks at me, and one of his fake eyelashes falls off his eye and sticks to his swollen cheek. He lets out a deranged giggle and says, "I brought protection this time. You can't beat me up now."_

_His eyes travel down to Peeta's body in my hallway, surrounded by the jelly bombs._

_His eyes grow wide with shock. "YOU BEAT YOUR OWN BOYFRIEND UP WITH MY JAMS AS WELL!"_

_The first retort that pops into my head is "This isn't what it looks like," but I feel like that would seem suspicious. I open my mouth, but I can't come up with anything to say._

"_OH MY GOD!" the jelly salesman screams, and Gale shuts the door right in his face. I know for a fact that that probably won't deter him in the slightest but whatever._

"_Is he okay?" Gale asks, eyeing Peeta, who still hasn't moved._

_I crawl over to Peeta's side and frantically search for a pulse._

_Oh my god, I think, did I just kill Peeta?_

In the moment, I'm too panicked to cry. As evil and terrible as it all sounds, my first though is _We need to hide his body._ But then I feel it. A very quiet, shallow pulse.

I look up at Gale, but I don't have any time to say anything before the jam salesman starts pounding on the door again.

"YOU HAVE TO LET ME IN!" he shrieks. "I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT YOU BEAT YOUR OWN BOYFRIEND WITH MY JAMS AS WELL! I REALLY NEED TO CALL THE PEACEKEEPERS, BUT I WILL NEED YOU USE YOUR PHONE! AND YOU ALSO NEED TO TRY MY JAMS!"

Now that I know Peeta's heart hasn't stopped, my mind instantly goes to other things. In order to keep my loved ones alive, the Capitol has to be wholly convinced that I love Peeta, and if this jam salesman goes around telling people that I "beat Peeta to death with some jam" then I might as well be digging a bunch of graves with my own shovel.

I glance up at Gale again, and I don't need to say a word. We've developed a sort of language of our own where we can talk through our eyes. After a second, Gale nods solemnly. He knows what to do.

He reaches out and opens the door again. "Why don't you come in?" he says in a slow, methodical voice.

"Thank you," the jam salesman says with a huff. He leans over and snatches up his little array of jams and marches over the threshold.

His giant boyfriend follows him inside but doesn't say a word. He stands right by the doorway and takes a moment to size Gale up. The two appear to be of equal power, but I dare say that the Capitol men are at quite a disadvantage right now.

The jam salesman walks over to the table against the wall and sets down the fancy basket of jam and points at me. "Direct me to your phone," he says in what he must believe is a commanding tone. "I must telephone someone about this travesty." He points down at Peeta's unconscious form. A little puddle of blood is forming beneath Peeta's head.

I look at Gale, and he nods.

As fast as lightning, Gale slams the blue-haired boyfriend's skull into the solid doorframe with a dull thunk. Without an ounce of struggle, he slumps to the ground at Gale's feet.

The jam salesman lets out the most high-pitched, blood-curdling scream that I've ever heard in my life, snatches up his basket of jams, and proceeds to sprint down the hall in search of the phone.

He doesn't make it far, though.

About halfway down the hall, his foot lands on a slippery mountain of jam and shattered glass, and he goes airborne. Everything seems to go in slow motion as he soars straight towards Peeta's unconscious body.

It's not like there's anything I could have done to stop it, but that won't make me forget the sickening thud that the jam salesman made as he landed on Peeta's chest. If that wasn't bad enough, the basket of jams landed on Peeta's head.

"Oh my god, I think we killed him this time," I say in a whisper as soon as everything has gone quiet.

"Shit," Gale replies.

The jam salesman lets out a long moan, but he doesn't get up.

"What do we do now?" Gale asks.

I look around the entire hall once. The jam salesman appears uninjured, but he's still dangerous. The boyfriend is out cold, which isn't very good for a cover-up. Then there's Peeta, whose chest doesn't appear to be rising and falling at all.

"I think we need to call Haymitch."

_I apparently have no rope in this well-stocked Capitol home of mine. I practically tear apart my kitchen in search of rope to tie up the Capitol people, but I find nothing. Gale doesn't find any in the rest of my house, so we're forced to get creative. I grab the rug that Peeta wiped out on- which is now covered in blood- and start cutting into strips. Gale and I start hog-tying the Capitol people up. About halfway through, the jams salesman makes a break for the door, but the ties around his ankles prevent him from making it all that far. I pick up a decorative vase from a nearby table and shatter it on his head. He is then still enough for me to finish tying his arms._

_Gale and I manage to carry their unconscious bodies into my basement. We jam them behind some abandoned paint cans and turn the lights off. I'm praying that the Capitol cared enough to soundproof the basement when they were building it. I have a feeling there's going to be some screaming._

_We return to the hallway, and that's when I'm finally forced to face Peeta._

_Peeta. The baker's son. A Victor of the 74__th__ Hunger Games. My supposed boyfriend. Peeta's dead. He's dead. My boyfriend is dead._

"_God, Gale," I whisper, staring at the puddle of blood surround his blond head like a halo. "I killed him."_

"_You didn't kill him," Gale says quietly. "He slipped on your rug."_

"_My rug, Gale."_

"_That's like blaming the person who invented guns for the death of everyone that our lovely Peacekeepers shoot."_

"_Can I sue the maker of the rug then?"_

"_Too bad we cut it to tie up our hostages."_

"_Too bad… I guess it did dispose of the evidence."_

_We let that settle into the air as we stare at Peeta's dead body. I honestly cannot fathom that we just killed Peeta. Or, rather, I killed Peeta. I killed Peeta with my love for Gale. I killed Peeta with my fancy gold-embroidered Capitol hallway runner. I killed my own fake boyfriend, and now he's lying in a scary puddle of blood in my hallway, surrounding by jams, smears of Capitol makeup, and…some more jams._

"_We need to hide the body," I say matter-of-factly, and that was when I really died inside._

_And Gale, being the amazing friend he is, helped me. He helped me hide my boyfriend because he loves me._

_Oh, the irony of my life._

_I have never been more covered in blood in my life. I have never felt so immoral. We hid him in the basement with the hostages. We covered him with sheets because I don't want to see him ever again. I went and changed clothes, and we bleached them along with Gale's shirt. Speaking of bleach, we bleached the hallway. And pretty much the rest of my house. We threw all of the jams into a bag and threw them into the basement with Peeta and the hostages. I hung a painting on the wall where the jam salesman's shoe made a hole._

_And then, only then, did we call Haymitch._

_He was pretty angry when I told him to come to my house immediately, but I told him it was urgent. All it took was one mention of Peeta problems, and he sighed and said he'd be right over._

_He let himself into my house and found Gale and I standing nervously in my kitchen, pacing and generally freaking out._

"_Who's this?" Haymitch asked, narrowing his eyes at Gale._

"_Um…Gale," I respond. "My…friend."_

_We'll take one truth at a time, I think._

"_What's wrong?" he asks, looking between us suspiciously. "What have you done? Where's Peeta?"_

"_Well…here's the thing, Haymitch," I say. "I kind of…killed him."_

Haymitch turns a garish shade of white, and his eyes narrow. "Funny joke. But seriously, where is he?"

"I'm not kidding," I say desperately. "He slipped on my rug and hit his head on the doorframe… and then the jam salesman landed on him and smashed his skull with the jam basket…"

I trail off as the tragedy of the whole situation hits me square in the chest. Haymitch just looks really dumbfounded.

"So technically it wasn't Katniss's fault," Gale says, coming to my rescue. "If anyone's at fault, it's the jam salesman. He's the one who left his shoes and jam on your lawn that Peeta brought in."

"Wait, wait, wait," Haymitch says loudly. "Go back. Explain."

So we do. Together, Gale and I tell Haymitch the entire story of the jam salesman and Peeta's tragic death. However, we make a unanimous and silent agreement to skate over the part where Gale and I were making out on my couch because that seems like too much for Haymitch to know.

"Well…" Haymitch says slowly when we've finished. "You've mucked things up in the worst of ways today, haven't you?"

I groan and put my head in my hands. "And that's not even the worst part."

"Oh, god—"

"We tied up the jam salesman and his boyfriend, and we stuffed them in the basement with the body," I moan.

"Well, doesn't that take the freaking cake," Haymitch growls.

"What do we do?" I ask him

Haymitch takes a final swig from his bottle and slams it down on the table. "First, we need to take care of the body. Take me to him."

Somehow, I drag myself out of my seat and lead Haymitch to the basement door. The three of us creep down the stairs in complete darkness, and I mentally prepare myself to see Peeta's body again. I can't tell if I'm just in shock or if I really don't care that my fake boyfriend is dead, but for some reason, I just can't feel much.

When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I tug the cord to turn the light on.

I point to the corner in front of us. "The Capitol hostages are over there," I say. "You can see the jam salesman's stiletto peeking out from behind those paint cans."

"Aha, I see," Haymitch says. This is why I called him. He honestly doesn't care.

Then, I walk over to the corner where Peeta's hiding. I push aside a couple of half-empty boxes to reveal what would appear to be a haphazardly lumped together pile of tarps.

"He's under there," I say quietly.

Gale lets out a sigh, but Haymitch looks at me quizzically. "_This _is where you hid him?" he asks derisively. "You did a terrible job."

"Whatever, Haymitch," I reply in a weary voice.

Disregarding any respect we could still have for Peeta's body, Haymitch uses his foot to flip the tarp off Peeta's face. He looks even more dead now, which makes sense since it's been about an hour since his death. The blood looks crusty and fake over his waxy skin. In fact, he looks almost like a doll…

I'm about to suggest that we just get on with it, but a stiletto comes down hard on my temple. I crumple to the ground, landing uncomfortably on the boxes that I pushed aside to hide Peeta. When I force my eyes open, gasping for breath, I watch Haymitch topple over.

I don't even have time to cry out before the paint can striking my head turns out all the lights.

_When I wake up much later, I smile. My bedroom is dark like it's just the middle of the night. It's all been a dream, I think to myself. I didn't kill Peeta. I haven't ruined everything._

_But the smell of the room begs to differ._

_And when I roll over, I don't find the bright yellow wall of my bedroom. Peeta's dead face is staring back at me._

_I scramble away from Peeta and, consequently, run smack into another body. Haymitch. He's curled up in a ball on his side, moaning and groaning, with a large welt on his forehead, which I assume came from a paint can. I feel a similar one on my forehead._

_My mind kicks into gear, and I remember what happened._

_I scramble onto my feet. Where's the jam salesman? His boyfriend? Where's Gale? _

_At that thought, I go scrambling into the darkness of the basement, running in what I assume is the direction of the stairs. Panic surges through me. What if the Capitol guy escaped and now he's leaking stories to the presses. Once President Snow catches wind that I killed Peeta, we'll be dead for sure. Who knows how people are going to react…especially knowing that I killed him. People are going to flip out. They'll be calling for my blood._

_Oh, Peeta….why did this have to happen? Why did you have to love me? Why did you have to trip on my-_

_Something slams hard into my face. At first I think I'm being attacked, but then I realize it was the ground._

_I tripped on a body._

_I scramble away like an animal, heart pounding._

_And I end up in a puddle of something sticky and wet. Blood._

_I have to stifle a scream._

_The jam salesman's boyfriend is lying in a scary puddle of blood. There's a bloody paint can discarded a few feet away. He has the pull-chain for the light clutched in his hand. He must've turned the lights out. He doesn't appear to be moving. Or breathing for that matter._

_I'm too horrified to even think, for a second, that we've killed a second person today. I can't even deal with that right now._

_I turn and run, leaving behind the blue-haired man's body. I run up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I slam into the door, shaking the door handle with all my might._

_Locked._

_I'm trapped with two dead bodies with only an unconscious Haymitch for help. I'm screwed. _

_I slam my fist on the door._

_The jam salesman's got to be out there somewhere. Maybe he's already gone, and he's just keeping me contained with all the evidence._

_But wait…Gale's out there somewhere… Isn't he?_

_In response, I hear his voice._

"_Put the phone down."_

_He's far off in the house. I assume he's in the kitchen. _

"_Never!" I hear the jam salesman yell back._

"_You just killed your own boyfriend with a paint can!" Gale shouts. He was the one that killed the boyfriend? "If you call, you're just as guilty as the rest of us!"_

_I need to get out there. That's all I can think. Gale's still got the guy trapped in my house._

_I scramble back down the stairs and grab the paint can out of the puddle of blood. I run back up the stairs and, with all my might, bring the paint can down on the handle. It pops off and rolls down the stairs. I throw the paint can back down with it and make a mad dash for the kitchen._

_I burst in with just enough time to watch the jam salesman pull out the kitchen knife._ He's still clutching the phone with one hand, tears streaming down his face, dragging streaks of mascara over his cheeks. He looks completely insane standing there with that kitchen knife, but I suppose we must all look a little crazy.

"Put that down!" I say in a surprisingly commanding voice.

Both Gale and the jam salesman glance over at me. Gale looks relieved, but the jam salesman lets out a deranged, animal-like wail. He relinquishes hold of the phone, and it clatters to the ground, letting out beeping noises. The jam salesman grips the large kitchen knife with both hands and holds it out towards me and Gale.

"I said, 'Put that down,'" I repeat, my voice still firm.

I take one step into the room, and the jam salesman goes ballistic. He jumps forward, jabbing the knife towards me, screaming like a cat getting stabbed to death.

"_Noooooo_," he says in a breathy voice. His eyes dart between me and Gale. "I won't put it down! I am going to call someone, and I am going to spread your crimes all over Panem!"

"And what of your boyfriend?" Gale snaps. "That was your own fault!"

A new onslaught of tears pours over the jam salesman's cheek, and he shrieks at the top of his lungs. "Ariel's death was not my fault! You are the ones who kept me prisoner." His eyes cross. "_I will ruin you_!"

"You didn't give us a chance to explain—" I start, but before I can finish the jam salesman chucks a paint can at my head.

I barely hit the floor in time, and the can strikes the wall. Of course, since today is the worst day ever, it explodes, and a giant wave of fuchsia paint rains down all over me. Following that, the can itself clatters down the wall and hits me in the mouth. I spit out a profuse amount of blood and a tooth and roll over.

Then, a paint can explodes all over the cabinets behind Gale's head, and the jam salesman starts running at Gale with all his force, knife held out in front of him.

There's nothing I could have done to stop it, but I probably could have done something besides scream.

All in a second, the jam salesman darts, screaming, across the entire room and stabs my new Capitol-made kitchen knife into Gale's midsection.

The three of us all sort of look at the knife sticking out of Gale's stomach for a couple seconds in stunned silence. Then Gale falls back against the countertop, effectively pulling the knife out from within him.

Somehow I struggle to my feet, slipping through the mass of paint, and sprint towards the jam salesman. At this point, I don't care that he has a knife on him. All I care about is taking him down.

I slam into his side, and the knife goes flying out of his hand. It slides through the green paint and then the fuchsia paint and clatters up against the wall. But I only hear that because I immediately start beating the crap out of the jam salesman.

He screams like a deranged animal the entire time, but he actually puts up a fight. Within a moment, I find myself rolling around in the paint, engaged in a full on brawl. We fight for an unintelligible amount of time, but, before I know it, I'm on the ground and the jam salesman is above me, holding an empty paint can menacingly above his head.

I wait for the impact, but Haymitch comes running in at the last second and knocks the jam salesman unconscious with another vase.

I lie on the ground, gasping for breath, as Haymitch takes in the scene.

He nods to himself. "You refused the jam, and the salesman did all this in revenge."

I let out a cough of paint and blood.

Behind me, I hear Gale let out a moan, and he pulls his hand away from his side, letting blood run into the green paint that's all over the floor.

Haymitch sighs. "Sweetheart, we are in this _deep."_

_He picks the phone up out of the green and pink mess of paint. All it takes is one emergency call from Haymitch before all heck breaks loose. He turns to me solemnly and says, "Sweetheart, ready up the water works," and he goes to the door to let the Peacekeepers into my home._

_All in a matter of minutes, my house was crawling with government officials and Peacekeepers. A hovercraft- a freaking hovercraft- showed up chockfull of Capitol people and news people and medics and more Peacekeepers. Some of the medical people took Gale away, and I kind of lost it then. Haymitch explained the issue to the Peacekeepers, saying that the jam salesman killed everyone in retaliation for me not tasting his jams. The Peacekeepers went and retrieved Peeta and the salesman's boyfriend from the basement._

_And that's when I started crying._

_Everyone just sort of walked around me, cleaning the kitchen and taking away dead bodies and whatnot, and I just sort of stood there crying. I just sit there and cry and spit up blood. Haymitch came over eventually and patted me on the back. It was like all the emotion was suddenly catching up with me, and I couldn't stop it._

_Today, I have made Peeta cry several times, beaten up a Capitol jam salesman, confessed my love for Gale, killed Peeta, kidnapped two Capitol people, hidden a body, been knocked unconscious by a paint can, tripped on another body, beaten up the same jam salesman in a puddle of paint, lost a tooth, and possibly gotten my best friend killed._

_And now we're lying about it all and blaming it on the jam salesman._

_I don't know how much more I can take._

_I don't know what I'll do if Gale's dead…. If Gale dies, I'm going to lose it. I can't lose my fake boyfriend and my real boyfriend all in one day, can I? Is that really fair? And Gale's death really would be my fault. I got him involved in this. If I just hadn't told him that I love him…._

_I start to cry even harder, and Haymitch just gives a sigh and says, "It'll be all right, sweetheart." We both know that's a lie._

_At some point, I cry my way into insanity, and the medics get concerned. Haymitch mentions that he and I might have concussions from the paint can attacks, and we're shepherded onto the hovercraft. I spit out some more blood all over their nice, clean medical stuff, and they get all concerned._

"_What day is today?" one of them asks, shining a light in my eye._

"_I don't know."_

"_Do you remember what happened when you hit your head?"_

"_Yeah. I remember the red heel hitting my temple and then the paint can smashing into my head."_

_They exchange worried glances. They probably think I'm making it up._

"_Does your head hurt?"_

"_Yes," I say. Suddenly, I feel really, really bad. I'm guilty. I'm sad. I'm scared. I don't know how much more I can take. Really. I don't know. I start to feel the panic welling up inside me, and I almost start crying again._

_Someone walks a stretcher past us, and I barely catch a glimpse of his blond hair._

_And I promptly throw up on the nearest Capitol nurse and pass out in her arms._

When I wake up, I'm staring at a bright, white hospital light.

It burns my eyes, and it makes them tear up… But that's really the wake up I deserve, right? I have just blamed a semi-innocent, cross-dressing Capitol jam salesman for several deaths and casualties that were really my fault (although, he was the one who killed Ariel). I deserve to be in pain.

"Where am I?" I ask blearily even though I'm not sure anyone else is in the room.

However, a voice responds. "You're in a medical hovercraft," a Capitol nurse says. She's poking around on a machine that I'm hooked up to. "Miss Everdeen, you are perfectly safe. You have nothing to worry about."

_Nothing to worry about? _Ha. That's funny.

The nurse goes on to explain what's happened to me, but I'm not really listening. I only catch bits, such as "concussion", "stitched up", and "new tooth."

After that one, I run my tongue along my teeth, and, sure enough, there isn't a gaping, bloody hole in the front of my mouth. The gums are still swollen, but I have a fancy new tooth jammed into my jaw. I suppose they couldn't have the new Victor of District Twelve running around looking unattractive.

I shudder at the word Victor. The lack of the "s" is chilling.

"Miss Everdeen?" the nurse asks, shocking me back to reality. "Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes," I respond even though I have no idea.

"Good," she says swiftly. "I believe you are well enough to give your statement to the Peacekeepers and tell the presses your story. I'll send them right in."

I make a big protest, but she tells me to calm down and shoves me back into bed, threatening to strap me down.

Anyway, she does in fact send in the Peacekeepers, and they do in fact ask me for my side of the story. At first, I start to panic because I'm unsure that my story will match up with Haymitch's, but I suppose my head injuries will cover up for my hesitance. I do my best to crap something together for them, and they seem satisfied enough.

After the Peacekeepers, the presses come flooding in. It's a flurry of:

"How do you feel now that your boyfriend is dead?" _Terrible._

"How tragic that there were two deaths… Would you describe what the two bodies looked like?" _No. _

"Will you ever eat jam again?" _Probably. _

"Just how depressed are you about your dear boyfriend's death?" _There are feelings I cannot describe. Leave me alone._

Eventually, after tears are shed on both sides, they leave me alone.

Haymitch comes in after a while with an ice pack against his head and leans really close to me to commend me on my lying skills. That's a nice change of pace from his normal angry retorts about how terrible I am. I guess hiding a body together has made us closer…

That brings me back to Gale, and I nearly lose it again.

"Haymitch?" I ask quickly as he gets up to leave. "Have you heard anything about Gale?" I choke on my words.

"Nope," Haymitch replies. I wonder if he knows what happened between us. "I was barely allowed to come see you."

"Right…" I say. Worry starts to eat away at me again.

Haymitch nods and wanders out. Not two seconds after he's gone, the nurse comes back in.

"One final visitor, and then you can go," she says.

Then the door opens, and I'm shocked.

"_Hello, Miss Everdeen," says President Snow. He strolls over to my bedside and smiles. "It's so wonderful to see that you're okay…after everything you've been through today."_

_I can almost sense the omniscience in his voice. He knows. He knows. I tell myself to calm down. He can't possibly know. How could he?_

_He turns and addresses the nurse hanging by the door. "Would you mind giving me and Miss Everdeen a moment alone?"_

"_Of course, Mr. President," the nurse says hurriedly._

_I send a look, begging her not to leave me alone with him, but she scurries out anyway. Of course, she's afraid of him too._

_He gives me that smile again, and the evil just shines right through it. His eyes are like a snake's, locked onto mine. I want desperately to look away, but I can't. I'm afraid if I keep looking at me, he'll somehow read my thoughts. Or I'll start crying. That's the last thing I need to happen right now._

"_Miss Everdeen…" he says, shaking his head. "What are we going to do with you…"_

_I don't know what I'm supposed to respond with. "What?"_

"_You, my dear, have just done nothing but cause trouble for yourself," he says smoothly. "First the berries…now this."_

_My heart starts hammering in my chest. He knows, he knows, he knows…_

"_I don't know what you mean, Mr. President," I finally force out. I was hoping my voice wouldn't sound so broken, so pathetic._

"_I was only referring to how you always manage to…get what you want," he says quietly._

_A little, pathetic noise threatens to escape my lips, but I stifle it._

_He sneers at me. "I have a knack for knowing when people are lying to me, Miss Everdeen. And I have a distinct feeling that you might not be telling the truth about what happened today."_

"_Of- Of course not," I stutter out. I didn't sound very convincing, not even to myself._

_He speaks as though he's scolding a small child. "I was told that you would be difficult, but I assured them that you wouldn't. Don't prove me wrong." He waits for a response, but it doesn't come. He leans towards me, dropping his voice, and finally gets to the point._

"_Did you kill Peeta Mellark?"_

_Tears sting my eyes. I can't even respond. "No," I say. "No. I didn't kill him." I swallow, gathering my voice from where it's cowering in the back of my throat. "Why would you even think that? I loved him!"_

_I hope that came out sounding like a distressed girlfriend. It probably didn't._

"_Really?" President Snow says like he's only mildly interested in my lies. "Because I have reason to believe that you never loved him in the first place."_

_The door bangs open, and a nurse steps in like an angel sent straight from heaven. President Snow whirls around like he might kill her. She cowers back against the doorframe. "I have to give Miss Everdeen her medicine."_

"_Of course," the President says tightly. "I'll just be going." He pauses in the doorway to send me one last look, and it reads: we're not done just yet. The woman gives me my drugs. I pray that I'll just drift away into darkness, but the door is thrown open again. The nurse starts to protest, saying that visiting time is over, but Haymitch, of course, doesn't listen._

"_Sweetheart, I have news."_

"What?" I ask. My voice sounds frantic, but, of course, the drugs are starting to suck me away.

"Well, first, the jam salesman is being sent to prison," Haymitch says.

I raise an eyebrow as if to say _No questions asked?_

"The Peacekeepers believe that he deserves a lifetime in prison," Haymitch says. He lowers his voice. "Though the President wasn't so sure."

That knocks the breath out of me again, and my vision starts to go dark around the edges. Though I want desperately to get sucked under by the drugs, I know Haymitch has more to say.

"What else?" I ask distantly.

"Your _friend_ who you seem to care deeply about—"

"Gale," I supply quickly, trying to pull myself further out of the drugs.

"Okay, they told me _Gale _will be fine," Haymitch says. It sounds like his voice is coming from down a tunnel. "I told them you'd pay his medical expenses. I thought he deserved as much."

_For helping me hide a body, he deserves way more than this._

At this point, I can hardly keep my eyes open, but the fact that Gale is okay brings a drugged smile to my face. "Good," I reply, and my voice sounds drunk.

"I was going to suggest that you go visit him before things go south, but I guess since you're drugged…" his voice trails off.

I try in vain to wake myself up, but the blackness is too powerful. I'm under within a second.

When I wake up, there's a bit of an argument going on outside… and I really have to go to the bathroom. I'm pleasantly surprised to see that I'm no longer restrained in any way, so I just get myself out of bed and wander over to the door.

As I get closer to the door, I start to hear more of the argument, and it makes me stop in my tracks.

"You will be able to see her when she wakes up, Mr. President," the nurse from earlier says.

"I demand to see her now," President Snow's voice replies.

I jump backwards from the door, my heart racing. My eyes dart around the room for any form of escape. A window. An air duct. A door.

"Mr. President, you don't understand," the nurse insists, her voice nervous. "She's under heavy medication—"

I sprint over to the side door and start rattling the handle. Locked.

"I am a busy man," Snow says sharply. "I need to speak with her immediately. Apologies need to be made for the death of her beloved."

_Apologies, my foot. _I kick the locked door in frustration as my heart starts to beat like a panicky bunny. I give the handle one more jiggle—

"Of course, sir," the nurse says, backing down. "I'll see what I can do."

I'm pretty sure a faint squeal escapes my lips, and then, like a present from God himself, the door opens. I scramble out just as the nurse opens the other entrance to the room.

And I'll be darned if Darius isn't the Peacekeeper that saved me.

"Thank you," I breathe as I stumble against him.

"What are you doing up?" he asks.

There are many things I could tell Darius, especially since I can hear the nurse and Snow freaking out about where I've wandered off to, but that's all too complicated. The only thing that registers in my head is that I have to get away from this door before the nurse comes to check this entrance.

I look up at Darius and whisper, "Gale?"

He understands what I mean and sighs. "Come with me."

We get out of sight just before the President opens the side entrance in a rage.

_Darius leads me down a couple hallways. I have no idea where we are, but I really don't have a need to ask. I just need to see Gale. We get stopped a couple times by some nurses that are concerned that I'm walking around, but Darius shuts them up. And this is why it's good to be friends with Peacekeepers._

_Finally, we find Gale's room._

"_Can I help you?" a nurse asks, raising an eyebrow at me._

"_I'd like to see Gale," I say._

"_I'm sorry," she says in a clipped tone. "It's not visiting time."_

"_Please," I beg. "He's my friend."_

"_I'm sorry," she says. "No." I have this strange desire to lunge and this woman and tackle her. It takes me a couple seconds to remember that my desire to tackle people is what got us into this mess in the first place. Darius grabs my arm before I can do anything._

"_Come back later," the nurse says, and she walks off down the hallway._

_Darius and I watch her leave, and I feel defeated._

_And then Darius just opens the door to Gale's room and walks right in as if we had permission._

_Again, this is why it's good to be friends with Peacekeepers. They get stuff done._

_Darius pushes me into the room and shuts the door behind me, leaving me alone with Gale. Gale's lying on a hospital bed similar to mine, except he's attached to all these machines and medical things. There's a big, thick bandage all the way around his stomach and sides. They have his strapped down. He does not look happy with the arrangement._

"_Katniss?"_

"_Hey, Gale," I say pathetically. "How…How are you feeling?"_

"_Pretty awful," he says flatly. "How about you?"_

"_I'm fine," I say even though that's a total lie._

"_What happened?" he asks. "Is there any news…?"_

"_Yeah. The jam salesman is going to jail for life," I say. I refrain from adding that President Snow doesn't think we're sending the right people to jail. "Thanks, Gale," I add, "by the way. Thanks for, you know, helping me." I grab his hand, and he smiles a little._

"_It was the least I could do," Gale says. "I helped start things anyway."_

"_No, I definitely started things," I say. "I just dragged you in with me."_

_Gale shrugs. "What are friends for if not keeping secrets and taking knives for each other?"_

_I laugh a little. "And this is why I love you." I barely kiss his forehead before the door busts open._

_Haymitch stops short when he sees us. Darius comes in behind him, saying, "I tried to stop him."_

"_What are you doing?" Haymitch asks. "What are you doing?"_

_I let go of Gale's hand immediately. "What do you—?"_

"_No," Haymitch says. "No, no, no, no, no." He runs over and grabs onto me, dragging me out of the room. "Is this why Peeta….?" His question trails off, but I know what he's asking._

"_Yeah," I say almost emotionlessly._

"_No," Haymitch says, dragging me into the hallway. "No, no, no, no."_

"_But Haymitch—" I start to say, but he's already pushed me into the hallway and slammed the door in my face._

Immediately, I hear Haymitch start shouting on the other side of the closed door. It muffles the sound just enough that I can't make out the words, but I can probably guess what Haymitch is screaming about.

I jump at the door and start pounding on it with my fists, screaming, "Leave him alone, Haymitch!"

But the shouting doesn't stop, and I hear Gale's voice join in as well. My concern instantly jumps to Gale's health, and I wonder if all this excitement and screaming is going to hurt him more. I start pounding harder on the door, unsure of what else to do, until Darius drags me off.

He hauls me down the hallway a ways until he determines I'm calm enough to walk myself.

"I tried to stop Haymitch," he says. "By the time I saw him coming, he was already halfway in the room."

"I don't blame you," I say quietly. "Haymitch has a way of getting wherever he wants without letting anyone stop him..."

We walk in silence for a little while, meandering through unrecognizable halls of the hovercraft. Darius must know where we're going, but I don't really bother to pay any attention.

Then, because Darius is Darius, he cracks a smile and looks down at me. "You two are finally together now, huh?"

I let out a huff, and I feel my cheeks redden. "I suppose that's obvious."

Darius lets out a bark of laughter and sidesteps to bump my side. "How long has this been going on?" he pesters, a grin on his face.

I roll my eyes. "Not long," I reply. Although, our kiss seems like it was years ago… Then again, I have no idea how much time has passed in this hospital.

"Why couldn't this have happened when I needed five dollars for your kiss?" Darius asks teasingly.

I scoff and cross my arms, but my face still burns bright red.

Darius gives up making fun of me, and eventually we make it back to my hospital room. I am about to go back in when my nurse comes running down the hall.

"Miss Everdeen, where have you _been?"_ she asks angrily. She looks back and forth between me and Darius.

Luckily, my Peacekeeper friend comes to my rescue. "I found her wandering around looking for a bathroom earlier this morning," Darius replies.

Yet another reason why it's good to be friends with Peacekeepers. People believe them.

"I got up, and no one was around," I say. "And I really had to go to the bathroom, so I was left to find one by myself."

The nurse sighs. "Well, that was very unwise of you. And, for your information, the President about had my head because we couldn't find you. He really needed to talk to you."

I swallow and try not to let my nerves show. "I'm so sorry to have missed him," I say in a steady voice. _Actually, I'm quite happy I put off our talk._

"It's alright," the nurse says as she bustles me back into my room. "He left after a couple minutes of waiting, but he told me to inform you that he'll give his apologies soon."

The nurse sits me back down on my bed and does a quick check up of my vitals. It only takes a couple minutes before she tells me I can leave.

"Really?" I ask. It seems odd that I will be allowed to leave immediately after coming off heavy drugging.

"Of course you need to go," the nurse says. "Your boyfriend's funeral is taking place in a couple hours."

Is it bad that "boyfriend" made me think of Gale instead of Peeta?

_Peeta's funeral is an irritating affair._

_I guess that's callous of me to be saying, but it's the first word that came to mind. Me, Haymitch, and Peeta's family are probably the only people that really knew Peeta. Mother and Prim came, but I didn't feel like talking. Hordes of Capitol people showed up. They sobbed and wailed and cried loudly and exaggeratedly. Most of the nurses and doctors from the hovercraft showed up. And so did the camera crews. _

_There were so many cameras at his funeral it wasn't even funny. The people of the Capitol could attend Peeta's funeral without even being there. They could bawl in the privacy of their own home._

_That, I think, is what I found irritating. The combination of the loud, unjustified crying and all the cameras didn't sit well with me. Well…that and President Snow. He stood on the other side of Peeta's casket and watched me the entire. It was probably the single moment in my life that I am glad that I was able to cry._

_We bury Peeta in a nice, little plot of grassy land. Wildflowers grow all around the dirt lump that now covers Peeta's grave. It's a beautiful day. He would've liked this, I think to myself. Actually, Peeta probably would have liked to be alive for this day._

_As I wiped the last tears off my face and headed off for my house, one of the TV people ran over and started asking me question about Peeta's death and how I was feeling and what it would be like without him._

_Haymitch didn't even yell at me when I knocked the camera out of the guy's hands._

_I shuffled off away from the crowds. I locked myself in my house like a hermit. I didn't even let Prim and Mother in. For hours, people knocked on my door, shouted questions. For hours, people came to offer their condolences. Meanwhile, I sat in my hallway and stared at the spot on the ground where I watched Peeta die. It was rather masochistic, but I did it anyway._

_At some point, Haymitch came, and I let him in. He told me that the hovercraft was headed back for the Capitol and that they'd be taking Gale. He still wasn't in a very good condition. He would be brought back when he was better, and we would be receiving updates. I didn't like the way Haymitch was talking about Gale, so I made him leave my house._

_And I was alone again._

_I remembered that President Snow said he was going to talk to me later, so I wandered up to my bedroom. I'll just go to bed before that happens, won't I?_

_I ended up standing in the hallway again and staring at the spot where Peeta died. You can almost see the blood stain on the floor. Maybe I'm just imagining it. I half convinced myself that maybe it didn't really happen, but when I moved the painting to the side, there was a large hole there._

_I finally went upstairs to my bedroom. I stared at my pathetic self in the mirror. I am a terrible person, I thought to myself._

_And that's when I saw it._

_There was a jam jar sitting on my bed. A little, tiny jar full of apricot preserves._

_My heart was pounding as I approached it. I noticed there was a little note stuck to the side. With a shaking hand, I grabbed the note. In pretty, curly handwriting, it said:_

_This isn't over. You will eat my jams._

_I barely had time to read this before the door slammed behind me, and a sweet-smelling towel was clamped over my mouth._

* * *

_A/N: So how was that cliffhanger? Hope you enjoyed. We sure enjoyed writing it. There will be a Part 2 coming soon. As usual, please review and tell us what you thought!_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hey, guys! Thank you so much for your reviews. We were afraid that no one would understand our messed up humor! Anyway, here's the second and final part. This second half was such a blur. I have no idea what we were thinking. Hope you enjoy it._

* * *

I wake up jammed between the wall of a truck and a stack of jam crates. My arms are tied behind my back, and my ankles are tied together. There's a gag in my mouth which prevents me from screaming when the stacks of crates come raining down on me.

So basically I'm buried beneath a stack of wooden crates in a murderer's truck.

One of the crates landed weird on my stomach, and the corner digs into my midsection with every bump. The weight of the grape jelly box that landed on my chest makes it hard to breath, but I force myself to keep going. I refuse to let the jam salesman kill me.

We make another sharp turn, and a crate of apricot jam lands on my head, and I black out.

Next I know, I'm getting dragged out of the truck by my feet. The crates have been cleared away, but I can still feel the weight of the corner digging into my stomach.

The jam salesman plops me on the ground, leaving me tied and gagged. We're in the middle of a forest, about twenty feet to my left through the trees, there's a gravel road. Directly in front of me, the jam salesman has lit a tiny fire.

I look over my shoulder at the jam salesman, who's wrangling something out of the passenger's seat. Whatever it is, it's pretty big because the jam salesman seems to be struggling. When he finally gets it out, I scream at the top of my lungs, but the gag muffles the noise.

It's his dead boyfriend.

He drags the body across the ground and props it up in a sitting position against a tree by the fire. His eyes are open and glazed over, and there's a trail of dried blood running down his white face.

I can't stop wanting to scream.

The jam salesman come over and crouches in front of me, and I get a good look at him. He has adjusted well to this new lifestyle. His dress is torn. He's missing shoes entirely. His hair is matted with paint, blood, and mud. His makeup is smeared so that he looks like a raccoon.

Overall, he looks like something out of a horror film.

He holds a small jar of jam out in front of my face. "You will eat my jam," he says in a shaky voice.

I realize that if I don't accept the jam, I won't eat for anything for the conceivable future, but I refuse to eat this man's product. Not after all he's put me through.

Since I have a gag in my mouth, I shake my head.

His eyes light up with a crazy fire. "YOU WILL EAT MY JAM!" he practically screams. "YOU WILL EAT IT AND YOU WILL LIKE IT!"

I shake my head harder, keeping my gaze firm and unafraid.

Without warning, he lashes out with the jar and strikes me on the temple. Like a rag doll, I slump over on my side, my vision blurring over. The last thing I see before I black out completely is the jam salesman snuggling up against his dead boyfriend's side.

I wake up once again (I've been unconscious more often in the past few days than I've ever been in my entire life combined), and I'm still in the back of the truck. Two seconds after my eyes open, the back doors to the truck fly open, and the jam salesman drags me out by my ankles. Thankfully, his dead boyfriend is absent from this affair.

That's when I see where we are.

All around, there are mysterious and foreign vagabonds staring at us. It looks like a massive horde of criminals… And that's exactly what it is.

One of the guys steps forward and gives a toothless, sleazy smile. "Welcome to District Thirteen, home of the criminals."

_What? Really? I'm in District 13? The District that was supposedly blown off the map? Why on earth is my jam-selling captor bringing me here?_

"_What've you got for us, Barry?" one of the criminals asks in a gruff voice. One of them aims a gun at us._

"_I have Katniss Everdeen," the jam salesman proclaims, hauling me up off the ground. "The Victor of District 12!"_

"_Why?" shouts someone else. "There's bound to be a search party out lookin' for her! We'd we in loads of trouble if we were found!"_

"_She refused to eat my jams!" my abductor screams like that warranted kidnapping. In any other situation, that would make no sense. Unfortunately, in this one, it does._

"_So?" someone says. "Plenty of people refuse to eat your jams!"_

"_She beat me up!" he continues, shaking me around in my dazed state. "With my own jams! AND SHE KILLED ARIEL!"_

_That had a pretty profound effect on the group._

"_She killed Ariel?"_

"_How dare she?"_

"_How could that little thing kill Ariel?"_

"_She killed him!" the jam salesman screams hysterically! "She killed him and Peeta Mellark!"_

_There are some gasps from around the circle of criminals. I fight the gag over my mouth to speak. While I cannot deny that I was partially responsible for Peeta's death, I did not kill his boyfriend. According to Gale, he killed his boyfriend, and speaking of Gale, my friend the jam salesman here almost killed him. He is as much in the wrong here as I am._

"_What should we do with her?" asks the guy with the gun. He shifts his aim to my head._

"_We should kill her!"_

"_For Ariel!"_

_There's a resounding yes, obviously having forgotten the trouble they'll get in if they're caught with my very famous body. Well, these are criminals living in a destroyed District. Maybe they're professional body hiders._

_They swarm at us, calling for my blood, and hoist me above their heads. They start running, and it's all a blur of black. I start to panic then because I have no doubt that these people could kill me. I know that guy with the gun could've given me a painless, quick shot to the head, but he didn't. _

_They must have something fun and painful planned. _

_I think, for some reason, how ironic it is that both Victors of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games died within a couple days of each other. _

_Haymitch has to be a mentor again._

_I'll never know what President Snow was going to tell me._

_Oh, and I only had approximately one day with Gale knowing how I feel about him._

_This is such a….great way to die._

_Then, just when I thought all hope was gone, someone with a black mask, black cape, and black hat comes swinging out of the sky, snatches me out of the arms of the criminals, and goes running off into the forest with me in his arms._

_Several shots ring out. I feel one of the bullets dig across my arm, and I almost pass out. The guy has to pick me up and keep running._

_We disappear into the forest with the shouts of the District 13 criminals behind us. _

My rescuer runs with me in his arms for a long time until we reach this big, black van. I swear, I'm dwindling on the verge of unconsciousness by the time I'm hauled through the back doors and set gently onto a cot of sorts.

My masked savior looks at my arm and then at the driver's seat. "We'd better get the hell out of here. She's been shot in the arm, and the gang of prisoners probably isn't far behind us."

That voice sounds so familiar that it registers distinctly in my brain.

My arm hurts so bad that talking seems impractical, but I manage to force out a nice, "_What_?"

My knight in all black whips his ski mask off. It's Darius. "How come I always have to bail you out of trouble?" he asks, but I know he's not expecting an answer. Instead, he just grins down at me.

See, this is really why you're friends with Peacekeepers. They do this sort of stuff.

Someone honks the horn, and I turn my head to see Haymitch sitting in the driver's seat and an unfamiliar Peacekeeper is in the passenger seat. I smile drunkenly at Haymitch, but he just seems on edge.

Almost immediately, he puts the pedal to the metal, and we shoots off down the gravel road.

"Little Katniss, how are you?" Darius asks. "Besides your arm, I mean."

"Fine," I mutter, which is a total lie. I feel like I'm going to pass out.

"I can't believe we couldn't find you for _three days," _Darius says offhandedly.

"Three days?" I ask loudly (or I think I'm speaking loudly). "I've been gone _three days?"_

"Yeah," Darius replies. "We've been looking for you the whole time, I promise." He sort of trails off and gets this concerned look on his face. "Have you eaten anything in the past three days? You're looking gaunt."

"No," I reply slowly. Everything's going dark around the edges. "I refused the jam…"

"_God, _Katniss," Darius sighs. "We'll get you something to eat…"

But before he can feed me anything, I black out.

It takes us two days to adventure back to District Twelve, so I've been gone for a whole five days (even though it only seems like it's been three). This has left the district in a total panic.

When we pull back through the fences, there are Peacekeepers and press personnel everywhere. It's almost impossible to even get through crowds in the Victor's Village. Haymitch is barely able to steer us to my driveway.

Darius opens the back doors and insists that he carry me to the doors even though I know the sight of his will allow the presses to have a hay day, but he's persistent, so I permit him to carry me. Haymitch tells me that it's a good idea because of my blood loss and starvation.

I don't remember him caring like this before… Maybe it's because I'm the only one he has left…

As I think of Peeta, a chill runs through my spine. But that's quickly forgotten because Darius steps out of the truck, and the Capitol people swarm on us like tracker jackers. Luckily, the other Peacekeeper and Haymitch can act as a barrier of sorts. Somehow, I'm not sure how we manage it, we get to my front door.

Haymitch shouts for everyone to get out because I need to rest and slams the door in everyone's faces. He even shuts all the curtains.

"Take her upstairs," Haymitch commands Darius, who does so without complaint.

Darius lays me down in my fancy Capitol-esque bed and tells me to rest, but that's sort of impossible because all I've done is rest for the past few days in that truck. I'm feeling more awake than ever.

About twenty minutes later, there's a knock at the door. "You have a visitor," Haymitch's gruff voice comes. "I really don't want to let them in, but—"

"Is it the press?" I ask angrily.

"No," he says.

"Then let them in," I say even though it could be President Snow.

The door opens, and this time, it's a nice surprise.

"_Prim?"_

_I'm so shocked to see my mom and sister that I almost jump right off my bed and hug them. I decide that wouldn't be a good thing to do in my condition, so I let them come to me._

"_Oh, Katniss, we were so worried," Prim says, burying her face in my shoulder. "We haven't seen you in so long!"_

_Mom turns into Doctor Mom and asks, "What happened to your arm?"_

"_I got shot," I say. Her eyes grow wide, and for some reason, in my head that warrants the addition of "when I got kidnapped." If it's possible, she looks even more shocked._

"_What happened to you?" Prim asks. "We were going to come visit you a couple days ago, but then all those Capitol people showed up. And Peeta… We tried to talk to you at the funeral too, but…"_

"_Well, this jam salesman came to my house," I say. "And I beat him up with his jams because he wouldn't leave the house. Gale came to visit, and Peeta and Haymitch came over, and it all sort of spiraled out of control from there. The jam salesman went on this crazy rampage because I wouldn't eat his jams. He stabbed Gale and knocked me and Haymitch out with paint cans, and he killed Peeta and his boyfriend. He kidnapped me after the funeral and took me out into the forest. I got shot by these criminals, and Haymitch and some Peacekeepers saved me."_

_I'm surprised by how unemotional that all sounded coming out of my mouth. I'm also pleasantly surprised by my ability to ice over the tricky parts. That was impressive, considering my current mental state._

_Prim and mom look absolutely horrified._

"_Katniss…that's terrible," Prim says. "I'm so sorry! We should've been here with you and tried to stop this!"_

"_No, it's okay, Prim," I say. "Gale and I handled it as best as we could." I have to stop myself before I start blathering on about the whole "Gale and I were hiding bodies and keeping captives" thing. "Besides," I hurry on, "it's good you weren't here for all of that. You didn't need to be part of all of the scary bloodshed."_

"_We'll come stay here now, anyhow," my mom says. "We can't leave you here alone anymore."_

_I smile wanly and pray it looks convincing for their sake. Really, their presence here only complicates things. They can't possibly be informed of what's really happened, so Haymitch and I will have to keep that a secret behind their backs. They could happen across the hole in the wall, which I haven't bothered to fix. They could even become a target for the jam salesman, and that's the last thing I need. I've already made Gale, Haymitch, and Darius targets. That's enough._

_Some Capitol reporters bust through my downstairs windows, and Darius has to run downstairs to take care of that. While he's distracted with them, some more reporters break down my door and come running inside. They storm upstairs, but Haymitch locks me in my bedroom with my family before they can get in. I can hear them screaming questions, and Haymitch valiantly tries to give answers while forcing them outside._

_It takes about an hour for Darius and Haymitch to get them outside and put the door back up. All the while, Prim and my mother tell me how sorry they are and mention how terrible this must've been for me._

_You don't even know the best parts, I think to myself. I manage to keep it in my head, thank god._

_A couple minutes later, I hear someone at the door, and Haymitch and Darius actually let the person in. _

"_Sweetheart!" Haymitch shouts. "More visitors!" And my bedroom door is thrown open once again._

Gale.

My heart gives this funny flutter, and I am filled with relief that he's healed. He appears to be moving gingerly, but he's standing, which is much improved from when I last saw him.

"I still don't approve!" Haymitch shouts, but he's already heading back downstairs (probably to fight off more presses).

Gale slams the door shut to cut off Haymitch's protests, but he doesn't take his eyes off me.

"Three days?" he asks loudly. "The jam salesman kidnapped you for _three days?"_

"Yeah…" I reply weakly.

"I thought they were taking him to prison," Gale says.

"They were," I say. "But, as it turns out, he was in my house the whole time."

Gale flinches and moves over to my bedside in one quick stride. He doesn't even bother to see that Prim and Mother are here before he scoops me into a sitting position and kisses me hard on the lips. It takes my breath away (quite literally because this is the most exertion I've had in the past five days), but it doesn't compel me to stop.

The thing that finally gets me to pull away is Prim's little shriek of joy.

Gale seems a little startled at first since he didn't notice that my family was here in the first place, but I think my blush is a million times worse. Basically, looking at Prim, you'd think that we'd just won the lottery— that's how happy she looks. My mom just looks bewildered.

"Did I neglect to mention that I never loved Peeta?" I say.

And that's when the press chooses to burst into the room. They've obviously all heard of what I just said because they're all looking at me like I've just dropped a bomb. One of the reporters in the front actually drops their microphone.

Then, a million flashbulbs go off, and we're blinded by the light of a thousand suns. I'm sure I just look terrible, but it's a wonderful shot of me practically sitting in Gale's lap.

After they all get their pictures, they take off running down the stairs, squeaking like mice. They probably all want to be the first group to publish the story and those _wonderful _pictures.

We're left in complete silence until Haymitch comes running into the room. "Why'd they all leave?" he asks. "Please tell me that you—"

He looks down at me and Gale. Gale's arm is still around me.

"Oh, sweet baby Jesus…" Haymitch says slowly. "You did not."

"We did," I say. I'm surprised at how normal and collected I am. Maybe I'm just happy that I don't have to pretend anymore. "Although, they didn't get the picture of us kissing, so they missed out big time."

"This isn't funny, sweetheart!" Haymitch yells. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?!"

I stare flatly at Haymitch. "Yeah, I do."

He stares back at me like it's the end of the world. Like he cannot fathom me being okay with this scandal.

"Snow's gonna want to kill me anyway," I say evenly.

If this were a cartoon, there would be smoke coming out of Haymitch's ears. He just shakes his head and turns to the door. "I can't even talk to you right now," he says, his voice shaking. "I'll be in my house, drinking my guts to mush, whenever you're ready to actually discuss this."

"Okay," I reply loudly. "Whatever happened to the virtue of honesty, Haymitch? Doesn't that count for something?"

He lets out a long string of unintelligible insults and curse words that is eventually cut off by the front door slamming.

"Well, this gonna stir the pot in the Capitol," I say evenly to kill the awkward silence.

My mother and Prim just look really stunned and white-faced, but Gale looks flat-out concerned.

"Hey, don't worry," I say. "It's just the Capitol. If I want to be with you, I don't want to have to hide."

Gale rolls his eyes but kisses me on the nose to let me know he feels the same way.

Another flashbulb goes off, catching the kiss on camera.

"Oh, _lucky you_!" I shout angrily as he scampers out of the house. "I guess good things come to those who wait, huh?!"

Gale actually laughs. "I just realized they still think we're cousins. What do you think they'll do with that?"

Another flashbulb goes off, and we're finally alone.

_It takes another couple minutes for Prim to stop squeaking from joy. Mom gets all concerned and starts asking if "I'm rushing into this" or "If I'm really old enough for a boyfriend." _

"_Mom, I've known Gale for a long time," I say. "If we should've been concerned, it should've been when I supposedly fell in love with a guy that I knew for about a week."_

_My mom insists that Gale leaves to go back home so that he can rest and not reinjure himself. He gives me another kiss before he leaves, and there are no cameras left to catch it._

"_I'm sorry I dragged you into this," I say. "They'll probably start beating your door down for an interview now…"_

_He shrugs. "I don't mind being back in your life again." He laughs. "Besides, this could be pretty entertaining if it blows up in our faces."_

"_Yeah, and then Haymitch will have a heart attack, and that would be the second Victor that's died in a week," I say._

_Gale leaves, and Haymitch comes back. He spends the rest of the day battening down the hatches for the wave of gossip that's about to hit us. He adds about three locks to my door and welds every one of my windows shut. He tells me that if the presses come back, I am to tell them nothing. He gives me a notecard that has a few phrases I am allowed to use, which includes: "I'm just so sad about Peeta's death. I don't know what I'm doing half the time," "We're just friends. It wasn't what it looked like," and "Please leave me alone to grieve in peace."_

_I crumple up the paper and throw it away, and Haymitch just throws an empty alcohol bottle at the wall. It knocks the painting off the wall, revealing the hole made by the jam salesman's heel. I pretty much scream and cover up the hole as fast as I can. I don't think Prim and my mom saw it, so Haymitch loudly says, "That was a close one, sweetheart," and then he whispers in my ear, "We're spackling that tomorrow."_

_He leaves, and then I excuse myself to my bedroom where I fall asleep almost immediately and don't wake up until Haymitch bursts at about midnight exclaiming that the "gossip is hot off the presses."_

_He flips a newspaper around so that I can look at it, and it takes few seconds for my sleepy eyes to focus. When they do, I find the word "INCEST" in large, black block letters across the front page with a picture of me and Gale beneath it._

_The story says that I've turned to incest in my grief for Peeta. I've lost Peeta, and I'm so messed up about it that I'm throwing my bottled up feelings on the nearest human being: my cousin. They neglect to mention my outburst of "I never loved Peeta."_

_The next newspaper didn't care one ounce that Gale is my "cousin," and they just ripped me to shreds for discarding Peeta and disrespecting his memory._

_The next newspaper talked about my declaration of not-love for Peeta. They pretty much flipped out._

_The king of all newspapers, though, was the one with the picture of us actually kissing. They had legit proof for what they were saying._

_I make Haymitch leave because I'm upset, and he leaves the newspapers "for me to peruse at my leisure." He seems to be getting a sadistic pleasure from all of this._

_Once he leaves, I wander over to my window and stare out into the night at Peeta's grave. I wonder if I have insulted his memory… Is he upset that I'm actually with Gale? Is he upset with how I'm reacting to all of this? Really, I can't pretend that I loved him or that he really meant something to me, but I would still feel bad if I'm insulting his memory this way. Is he mad at me?_

_And in response, a hand shoots out of the fresh earth on top of his grave, and Peeta comes back to pay me a visit._

I scream. And I scream. And I scream some more.

I scream long enough for him to get his head out of the earth as well.

And that's when Haymitch comes running into my room, probably thinking I'm getting raped or kidnapped or abused by Capitol news teams or the jam salesman or the criminals of District Thirteen, but I think what's actually happening is a million times worse.

Haymitch comes running over to my side and glances out the window. He goes from anger to terror in two seconds flat. He instantly starts screaming, "WHAT THE F—" at the top of his lungs.

That's sort of how we end up watching Peeta the zombie rise out of his earthen grave.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?" I scream at the top of my lungs. "THIS ISN'T POSSIBLE! THIS ISN'T— OH MY GOD!"

Zombie Peeta gets himself to his feet without much difficulty. He looks remarkably similar to the Peeta that I used to know except for his pallid gray skin and glassy eyes. And the fact that he walks all hunched over and slowly. Or the fact that he's coming at my house with bloodlust in his eyes.

"COME ON, SWEETHEART! IT'S ZOMBIE FIGHTING TIME!" Haymitch shouts.

We both start sprinting back downstairs, screaming and shouting unintelligible things to each other. I don't know why we've been subjected to such horrifying things in the past few days. It doesn't seem fair that we get all the excitement, but I suppose we're just that lucky. So first, I accidentally kill my fake boyfriend, then a crazy jam salesman kidnaps me, then the Capitol presses think I believe in incest, and now my fake boyfriend is coming back from the dead as a zombie?

Haymitch and I burst into the empty garage and start grabbing tools. Haymitch goes for the baseball bat, and I go for the shovel. I debate a moment about also grabbing the rake, but something starts pounding on the garage door.

I let out a faint shriek, and Haymitch gets this scary look in his eyes and says, "That'll be him."

Like a well-seasoned war hero, Haymitch walks over to the glowing button and presses it, opening the garage door to our dear friend, Zombie Peeta. He lets out a loud, feral growl and charges towards us. I'm pretty sure that's when I start crying.

Haymitch, however, wads up all his courage and runs at Peeta with his baseball bat raised over his head. I swear, Peeta's moments from grabbing onto Haymitch's throat when the bat comes down on his skull. There's a hollow thunk like someone hacking open a watermelon, and Peeta collapses onto the ground.

Haymitch goes ahead and whacks his skull like three more times before he backs up.

I'm on the verge of vomiting or passing out. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know," Haymitch says. We're both staring at Peeta.

"How did this happen?"

"I know about as much as you do, sweetheart."

I swallow. "Do you think that Capitol did this?"

"What does the Capitol _not _do?"

"Fair point."

Haymitch opens his mouth to respond, but a person starting running up my driveway, asking, "What's going on? Why are you shouting?" It's too dark to recognize them by sight, but I don't even have time to try to recall the voice before Zombie Peeta lurches awake and sinks his teeth into the visitor's ankle.

_And that was how I ended up losing my sister as well as my fake boyfriend._

_Haymitch and I just sort of stood and watched in horror as Zombie Peeta bit onto Prim's ankle. We stood in absolute silence for a good couple of seconds. Haymitch had his bat raised above his head, I was preparing to drive my shovel through Peeta's neck, Prim was looking at Zombie Peeta with this terrified expression, and mom was standing right behind Prim, unsure of what to do._

_Everything zoomed back into the present, and I started screaming again._

_Haymitch brings the bat down on Peeta's head again, and Peeta just growls and rips the flesh out of Prim's leg. Prim lets out this blood curdling scream that mixes with my scream, and mom just screams right along with us. I stab my shovel right through Peeta's chest, and he goes still, a chunk of Prim's ankle still hanging limply from his mouth._

_There's blood spurting out of Prim's ankle wound, and I think we all realize that it's too late._

_Suddenly, she stops screaming, but it's only replaced by growling._

_She lunges at mom, who was the closest, and unfortunately, mother had nothing to protect herself with. Prim bit down on her neck and ripped out her vocal chords, so she couldn't even scream. I couldn't move because I was too horrified, so Haymitch was the one that had to run over and beat Prim off of mother._

_So then mother became a zombie as well._

_Zombie Prim ninja-kicked Haymitch in the shins and grabbed his baseball bat. She tossed it aside and jumped at Haymitch. For a second, I thought for sure that I was going to lose Haymitch too, but he rolled out of the way just in time and grabbed the baseball bat back off the ground. Prim lunged for him again, and this time, it was my shovel that came down on her head._

_She collapsed right next to Peeta, and I turned to face the last zombie._

_Mom ran at me with bloodlust in her eyes, screaming and groaning. She expertly dodged my shovel and Haymitch's bat. I screamed and ducked behind a trash can before she could bite me. Haymitch hit her with the bat, but she wouldn't go down. _

_I was just about to run and help Haymitch fight when something grabbed my ankle._

_I looked down, praying it was just a garden hose._

_It was not._

_It was Peeta's hand._

"_OH MY GOD, PEETA, WILL YOU JUST NOT DIE?!" I screamed. I slammed my shovel down on his wrist and cut his hand away from the rest of his arm. Unfortunately, the hand stayed clenched around my ankle._

_So I screamed some more, and I balled up all my courage and pulled the hand from around my ankle._

_Peeta reached out with this other hand, and I threw my shovel down on his head with all my might. His head exploded like a pumpkin being thrown from the roof off a building._

_So, this time, I really did kill Peeta Mellark._

_I turned around in just enough time to see mother making a break for the exit._

_There was nothing we could do. We watched as she ran off into the darkness of the night towards the rest of the district._

"_Oh no, Haymitch," I shouted, "she's going to go kill people!"_

"_Oh god, we've started the zombie apocalypse!" he moaned._

"_We have to go warn everyone else!"_

_And with that, we took off running after mother to go save the rest of the District from the zombies._

So apparently Zombie Mom is really fast.

Haymitch and I full-out sprint at our top speeds, and she remains a consistent 50 feet in front of us. Unfortunately, it's hard to scream while running this fast, so we don't have time to warn the first few victims.

Zombie Mother hits the square, and people just stare at all three of his confusedly. Then she sinks her teeth into an unsuspecting Peacekeeper. She bites about three more people by the time Haymitch and I reach her. Haymitch swings his bat at her head with all his strength, but it barely makes her stagger.

She swings around and goes for Haymitch's neck, but a Peacekeeper from half way across the square shoots her in the side, and that's distracting enough that she turns away from Haymitch.

Zombie Mother charges at the Peacekeeper that tried to shoot her, and all the people she bit rise up as zombies.

"Come _on!"_ I say loudly. Haymitch and I could barely take down Peeta by ourselves. How are we supposed to take down five zombies?

Haymitch gets a deranged look on his face. "We can do this, sweetheart. If we can survive the Games, we can survive this!"

With that, he runs right into the middle of the pack of zombies and starts batting them all. He doesn't kill them or knock them down, but it's a good enough distraction to keep them from creating more zombies. I join the fray with him, and, together, we manage to kill the Peacekeeper zombie that Mother Zombie created when she first entered the square.

Unfortunately, I glance over my shoulder for a split second, and about twenty more zombies come running at us from the other end of the square. Apparently Zombie Mother has been busy.

I swear at the top of my lungs, and I start to think that maybe this is where it's going to end. And to think, this morning we thought our biggest problem was going to be the drama in the newspapers.

I find myself separated Haymitch, and the only think I can think to do is hop up on the fountain in order to get higher ground on all the zombies that run at me. I hold my shovel out in front of me and pray to whatever higher power is watching over me right now that I will be spared from these zombies.

Everything turns to a blur as I start beating as many zombies as I possibly can with my shovel.

The next thing I know, someone is dragging me backwards through the fountain. I start screaming and struggling, thinking it's a zombie, but then Haymitch shoves me behind some crates.

He looks around jerkily. "We have to get out of here and get back up."

I can hardly breathe, but Haymitch pops up and peaks over the edge of the crates. He must determine that there aren't any zombies watching us because he grabs my wrist and hauls me down the path to the Seam.

Fortunately, no zombies follow up, but I can only imagine what's going on in the square right now. We run blindly for a little while just to distance ourselves from the zombies, and then I recognize where we're at.

I quickly dart left and start running up to one of the houses. Haymitch doesn't even bother to stop me because he's too out of breath to speak. I slam into the front door and start pounding on it.

"GALE!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "ANYONE!"

The door is opened in a matter of seconds. Gale's eyes flash with concern. "What's wrong?" he asks.

I can hardly catch my breath. "Peeta— zombie— the square— everyone's undead."

"What?" Gale asks. He grabs onto my arms to steady me, but it doesn't help.

And then something explodes behind us.

I whip around to face the square, and I just see a massive wall of flames.

My heart drops into my stomach.

There are hovercrafts dropping fire bombs.

"_NO! WHY ARE THEY DOING THAT! YOU CAN'T JUST BOMB THE WHOLE DISTRICT TO KILL THE ZOMBIES!" I scream uselessly at the sky._

"_Yes, they can, sweetheart," Haymitch says. "And they're doing it, and we need to get our butts to safety._

"_Where are we supposed to go?" I shout over the rumble and exploding of the nearby houses. You can hardly hear me over the screaming._

_And then, Gale and I both look at each, and we both realize the answer simultaneously. "The meadow!"_

_The next few minutes feel like a lifetime. The only thing that keeps me from dropping to the ground and sobbing in a heap is pure adrenaline. And Haymitch. We sacrificed whatever sanity Haymitch had left to the zombie apocalypse, and now we just have to make it through the fire bombs. Haymitch keeps darting in and out of the fire, and it scares the crap out of me. Somehow, he doesn't die. He comes out carrying, like, three children and just starts pushing them towards the meadow. _

_Gale ran in one direction, and Haymitch and I are running in the other. The plan is that we shepherd as many people towards the meadow as we can and pray that we make it out alive._

_Things are blowing up left and right, and more hovercrafts just keep coming. I can practically imagine President Snow smiling to himself and saying, "Let's just wipe out the whole district like we wiped out District 13. We'll just tell everyone else that we did it to stop the zombie apocalypse." I can hear his laughter in my ears over the screaming. "Watch out, District 11….you're next."_

"_DUCK!" Haymitch screams, and then he shoves me down onto the ground. Some fiery piece of wood comes flying out of the sky and nearly beheads me._

_Another bomb drops nearby, and I hear more screaming. This is the only thing that encourages me to slam myself into the next door and yell for the family to get to the meadow._

_One more wave of hovercrafts comes, and I know we're done for. Haymitch grabs my arm, and we start sprinting for the meadow. I just silently pray to myself that Gale has the sense to head there now. Please don't go self-sacrificing on me now, Gale, I think._

_We stumble into the meadow, which, thankfully, is packed full of ash-covered people. We all watch in horror as the whole district goes up in flames before our eyes. The fire is almost too bright to look at, and the screaming is almost too loud to listen to. Unconsciously, I find myself pushing through the crowds, searching for Gale and his family. Please let them be okay. Please let them be okay. Please. I can't lose Gale too._

_And then, suddenly, his arms are wrapped around me, and his family's there, and I just start crying._

"_Katniss," Gale says, "Katniss, where is your family?" I don't respond because I'm crying so hard. "Katniss, where's your family?"_

"_They're zombies," I say, fully aware how crazy I sound. "Zombie Peeta bit them before we came running into the District. Prim and Peeta were both dead again before Zombie mother started running towards the District."_

_Gale looks at Haymitch, maybe for a real explanation. "She's not kidding," Haymitch says solemnly. "I was there."_

_At that point, I drag myself out of my pity party, and I look around at the terrified, ash-covered group that we've gathered here._

"_Where should we take them?" Gale asks._

"_The Capitol," Haymitch suggests, "to get revenge."_

"_As nice as that sounds-" Gale starts._

_I look around at all the people, and inexplicably, I turn towards the forest. "I know where we need to go," I say._

"_Where?"_

_The Home of the Criminals. "District 13."_

"What?" Haymitch asks loudly. "Sweetheart, you almost got killed when you were there last!"

I open my mouth to retaliate, but Gale steps in. "Hold on. _What?_"

"The jam salesman took me to District Thirteen, and apparently there's like a civilization of criminals that live there now. They tried to kill me for 'killing' Ariel."

"The why the hell would we take all of these people there?" Gale asks.

"I don't know!" I reply loudly. "Do you have any better ideas?"

"Not really, but—"

Before Gale or Haymitch can put their word in, another Capitol hovercraft comes flying towards us.

"NO!" I shout loudly, even though no one can hear me. "NO, THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING!"

Then Haymitch grabs my arm. "Wait! That's not a bomber, sweetheart."

"LIKE THAT MATTERS," I shout at him. "THEY'RE GONNA KILL US ANYWAY!"

The hovercraft starts descending directly next to the Meadow, so we're all blown down into the grass by the force. They get down pretty far, and then a little ladder falls down to the ground. A Capitol Peacekeeper starts climbing down as we all attempt to get to our feet.

I hold my breath, praying, once again, that we'll all be spared.

Gale moves up next to me and tightens his grip on my arm.

The Capitol Peacekeeper holds up his hands and starts speaking with his voice somehow magnified. "There is no reason to be afraid!" he says. "We come in peace. We apologize that we had to burn part of your district. We did not want the epidemic to spread. We have now come to take you, the survivors, to a safer place."

I flash a look at Gale, and he looks just as skeptical and untrusting as I feel.

"If you will all please file onto the hovercraft, we can take you somewhere where you all can be safe," the Peacekeeper continues.

Without hesitation, some of the survivors start flocking towards the hovercraft ladder. Since the entire thick crowd is moving, we all have to head towards what could be our possible doom.

Haymitch moves up right next to me and whispers, "If anything sketchy happens, smack them in the throat and run to the nearest escape hatch."

"Okay," I reply. We really did sacrifice his sanity to this cause.

Eventually, we get to the ladder, and the three of us climb up into the hovercraft. There we are directed down some halls. One of the Peacekeepers standing at the entrance watches me for too long, and, as soon as he thinks I'm not paying attention, he starts talking into a little radio.

Gale must have seen this too because he reaches out and protectively grabs my arm, pulling me closer to his side. Haymitch flanks me on the other side and whispers, "Remember what I said."

In groups of ten, we're shepherded into separate room in the hovercraft. Gale's family remains close enough behind us that we all get allotted the same room. We're about to go inside when a Peacekeeper comes out of nowhere and hooks my arm.

"Miss Everdeen, you are needed elsewhere," he says. "If you'll follow me.

I swallow and shoot one look back at Haymitch and Gale. Gale looks like he's prepared to beat this guy to the ground, but Haymitch just mouths, "_Smack, run, escape hatch_."

With that, I'm yanked away.

_The door shuts between me and remainder of the people I care about, and I have to stifle a scream. _

_They're going to take me, and they're going to let President Snow eat me alive, I think. I am going to die as soon as we get to the Capitol. _

_Frantically, I start looking around me for an escape hatch. I don't know why I've chose to take Crazy Haymitch's advice, but it's all I've got left. As I look around, I can't find anything. There isn't anything that looks even remotely similar to an escape hatch. _

_I start to struggle, and the Peacekeeper clamps his hand tighter around my arm. "Come with me, Miss Everdeen," he says condescendingly. I stifle another scream._

_The hovercraft gives an almighty shake, and I assume we take to the air. We'll be heading towards the Capitol, and I know it. I mean….the guy only said that we were being taken to a "safe place," but that's gotta mean the Capitol. We're probably being taken to our own version of the Hunger Games where we're forced to fight each other. Snow will probably make me watch. And then all the rest of the people I care about will die._

_We get into this large empty room, and that's when I see it._

_An escape hatch._

_I'm just about to punch the guy in the throat when about fifteen Peacekeepers come through this door on the other side of the room._

_That means my moment is now._

_With all my might, I punch the Peacekeeper right in the throat._

_He gasps for breath and releases my arm just enough for me to start dashing away. He yells, "SOMEBODY GET HER!"_

_But I'm already sprinting for the exit. _

_All I can hear is Haymitch's voice pounding in my head. If anything sketchy happens, smack them in the throat and run to the nearest escape hatch._

_Smack, run, escape hatch._

_Run. Running. Running to my escape hatch._

_There are several loud explosions behind me, and I feel something whistle past my ear. I actually scream this time. They're shooting me. I scream like a wild animal and run as fast as I can towards the exit. I swerve back and forth because a moving target is harder to hit than a stationary._

_More bullets fly past me, and I would laugh but I'm too busy screaming. They have pretty pathetic aim for Peacekeepers. You'd think they would be better at shooting people with all the practice the get. You'd think-_

_And then there's a loud bang behind me._

_And it's like my whole calf has exploded._

_Oh my god, I've been shot._

_I start screaming like a wild animal again, and I fall to the ground. I scramble on my hands and knees as fast as I can towards the exit. I am not getting taken back into custody. They cannot catch me._

_Smack, run, escape hatch._

_I just keep repeating that to myself as I scramble/crawl towards the hatch. I chance a look over my shoulder and see several Peacekeepers running literally ten feet behind me._

_I let out one last caged-animal scream, and I seize the hatch handle._

_I throw the door open, feel the air fly in and suction me out, and then I'm falling, falling, falling._

_The air is rushing too fast even for me to scream. I watch as the ground starts coming closer and closer and closer and closer._

_The only thing I can think before I go splat is that I really shouldn't have listened to Crazy Haymitch._

_Maybe then I would still be alive._

That's when I wake up.

"Katniss," Peeta shouts. "I'm leaving you some bread and pastries down here!"

I'm too stunned not to respond. "O-okay! Thank— thank you!"

I'm in my room. In my Victor's Village house. And I'm alive.

My heart starts pounding really hard, and I lurch out of bed at top speed. I don't even bother to put on real clothes. I almost wipe out on the stairs, but I manage to catch Peeta before he leaves out the back door.

"Good morning, Katniss," he says tentatively.

A flood of relief surges through me. Peeta's _alive. _"What day is today?" I ask him quickly.

He looks puzzled for a moment. "I think it's the twenty fourth—"

I mentally retrace my steps. I count back the horrid days one by one. Images flash across my vision. The hovercraft. The fire bombs. The zombie apocalypse. All those newspapers. Getting kidnapped. Peeta's funeral. Spending time in the hospital. Talking with Snow. Watching Gale get stabbed. Tripping over a dead body. Hiding Peeta's body. Getting harassed by the jam salesman. Watching Peeta die. Kissing Gale. Watching Peeta drop off bread.

When I finish all that, the day I land on is…

The twenty fourth.

I swear, if you could die of excitement, my heart would have given out right then. I would have just up and died right then and there.

"Really?" I ask excitedly. "It's really the twenty fourth?!"

Peeta looks frantic. "I think… I mean, I'm pretty sure…"

I let out a very uncharacteristic squeal of joy and throw myself at Peeta. Without giving him a chance to shove me away, I throw my arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek.

"OH MY GOD!" I shout, unable to control myself. "THANK GOD IT WASN'T REAL!"

"What's wrong?" Peeta asks. He sounds pretty stunned. Maybe it's just because he's surprised at our sudden contact.

In that moment, I get hit with this giant flood of emotion. "Peeta, please don't be mad at me!" I say. "And don't be so sad! I'm really sorry that I don't feel the same way about you, but I don't want that to ruin your life! I just really want to be friends!"

Concerned that I just spilled way too much, I back up and hold him at a distance. At first, he seems puzzled. But then a little smile forms on his face.

"Of course we can be friends, Katniss," he says. Then his eyebrows crease together. "But go back to what you were saying for a second— what did you mean when you said, 'Thank god it wasn't real'?"

I open my mouth, trying to come up with adequate words to describe the massive nightmare that I just had, but then the doorbell rings.

Gale.

I sprint straight down the hall and throw the door open. Sure enough, Gale Hawthorne is standing on my front porch, looking just as hot (and not stabbed!) as ever. He has his hands in his pockets.

Without thinking of the possible consequences, I jump about three feet in the air, land straight in his arms, and kiss him hard on the lips.

_I'm pretty sure I almost knock Gale down the stairs with my enthusiasm, but he recovers quickly and kisses me back. Just like last time._

_I don't think I have ever been this happy in my life. Peeta is alive. Gale hasn't been stabbed or taken away by the Capitol. Prim's not a zombie. My mother wasn't burned in the fire bombs. Haymitch still has what's left of his sanity._

_I haven't been shot, and I'm not falling out of a hovercraft._

_I don't know how this day could get better._

_Gale lets me go, and he has this priceless look of shock and confusion on his face, and I can't stop the totally blissed-out smile forming on my mouth. This makes him even more confused. The Katniss he knows doesn't smile like this normally. Well, this Katniss has been through too much to not smile like this._

_Gale shakes his head and laughs a little. "What the hell?"_

"_It was all a lie. I loved you the whole time," I say, and I'm pleased to see this is going better the second time around. I can't contain my happiness anymore, so I throw my arms around him and hug him. _

"_This is not how I thought this was going to go," he says. "Not that I'm upset by this…"_

_I grab his hand and pull him into my house. Peeta's left, I guess. I'm about to walk into my kitchen when I turn around and see the rug in my hallway. I let go of Gale's hand, run over to it, and snatch it off the ground. I throw it over into the sitting room. Gale looks at me strangely, and I say, "I always trip on that thing."_

_He just accepts it. Thank god._

_The doorbell rings, and I know who it is._

_I run back to the door, throw it open, and there's my friend._

_The jam salesman._

_He holds up a jar of jam. "Would you like to endorse our jams?"_

_I feel myself smile again. "Yes. Of course. I would love to."_

"_Here's a free sample," he says with a wink. He hands me a jar of jams and a spoon. I crack it open, and I eat some of the jam._

_And it's miraculously good._

_I don't know if it's just the compilation of all my happy that's making it taste good or if it's really this good, but it doesn't matter. I really should've just eaten the jam the first time around. It really simplifies things._

_The jam salesman leaves, and I keep my jam. I wander back into my kitchen and find Gale waiting there._

_I just stand on the other side of the kitchen, smiling at him like a crazy person. _

"_What's with you today?" he asks. "You're awfully…cheerful."_

_I imagine my kitchen covered in paint and blood, and I just laugh. "I had the craziest dream, Gale," I say. "I kissed you, and Peeta hit his head on my doorway because he was upset, and then he died, and that jam salesman watched it happen, so you and I kidnapped him and his boyfriend and hid them in the basement with Peeta's body, and then we got Haymitch involved, and the jam salesman killed his boyfriend and stabbed you, and we got taken to the Capitol, and then I got kidnapped by the jam salesman, Darius saved me, and then the Capitol thought you and I believed in incest, and then we started the zombie apocalypse, Prim and Mom and Peeta died, and then there were firebombs, and we got taken by the Capitol, and we got separated, and then I got shot by some Peacekeepers, so I jumped out of the hovercraft because Haymitch told me to, and then I died. But I woke up, and it was just a dream. And I'm so happy."_

_Gale looks at me for a few seconds like I've lost my mind, and then he just laughs. "I love you," he says, and he just hugs me._

"_I love you too, Gale."_

THE END.

* * *

_A/N: Well...that was an adventure. I hope you found it funny. Please review- even if you just tell us you think we're nuts. We'll just live up to our pen name, and we'll appreciate the review anyway. Thanks for reading._


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